“No. What Hannah did balances it out. She lied for him, put herself in jeopardy. She could have been arrested for giving false information in a murder case.” I stopped suddenly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that part. Could she still be arrested?”
He took my hand. “Hannah won’t be arrested. You have my word.”
Relieved, I continued, “About what you asked … if I hold a grudge, I’ll be recreating the feelings that existed back then and I don’t want to do that. My father threw away family relationships, and I don’t intend to walk in his footsteps on that one.”
“The Lassiters are good people.”
“I know that.”
After a while I said, “Thank you for making that call. I would never have thought of contacting the cop who handled the case.”
He smiled and kissed me. “That’s because you’re not a cop.”
I nudged his shoulder, and hopped off the rock.
We headed back.
“How’s the Collins’ investigation coming?” I asked as I teetered my way across a series of rocks. “You haven’t told me much lately.”
“I’ve interviewed everyone connected with him that I know of, and several people who knew him casually. Al Collins lived in Silver Stream all his life. Went to school here. Many hint at a shady side, but claim not to know much about it. For the most part, I believe them. But some are reluctant to talk because they know he was into something illegal and they don’t want their names tied to it. Maybe they were involved, too. Who knows?”
“You have any idea of what the illegal part was?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll find out. Could be related to cars. Drugs are a possibility, too. Can’t rule either out.”
“Drugs?”
Rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, he stopped and looked at me. “Because of his involvement with cars, cars would be the logical choice. But my gut feeling tells me drugs.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Easier to move. Big money. He wasn’t hurting for money, that’s for damn sure. The inside of his house looks like Donald Trump’s decorator let loose.”
JT’s, too, I thought, but didn’t say anything.
“Could marijuana be involved?” I asked, recalling what Ida had said about pot farms.
“It’s a strong possibility. I’m looking into it.”
We continued up the slight incline toward the parking lot.
“Miles and miles of woods to check,” he commented as we crested the hill. “If that’s the direction we’re going, I’ll need more help than I have now. The Maine DEA usually handles this, but they don’t concentrate on marijuana much any more. Arrests and seizures are down. Not the supply though. They have limited resources, and have had to reallocate to investigations involving other drugs.”
“You think those names with the numbers are drug contacts?”
“Could be. We’ve checked them out. Nothing so far. Several people with those names in the country, but no reason to suspect any of them. The names don’t add up.”
“You watching Percy?” I asked.
He smiled at me. “Yes, Detective Lassiter. We’re watching Percy and a few other folks.”
“Surveillance. Good. What other folks?”
“I have guys on overtime,” he told me as we sidestepped a fallen branch. “They’re watching the Auto Mart and JT’s Auto Repair. If I had more help, I’d also watch the women.”
“The Marla maybes?
“Yup.”
“Want me to watch?”
“Nope.”
“I should have known better than to ask,” I said. I should just do, not say. Mentioning the ladies, made me remember something I wanted to ask.
“I went to see Vivian and her dogs. She hinted that her neighbor Verney was into things. Like pot parties or something.”
“Yes, I know about that.”
Nick took my hand as we headed for his SUV. It felt good. There was something solid about him. I felt safe, which was a mild surprise because I hadn’t been aware of feeling unsafe.
“Verney’s not a bad sort,” he said. “Last winter things got kinda loud by his house. Bunch of his hunting buddies were high one night and they took to the clearing to skeet shoot. Florescent skeets. They’d painted them. Vivian called it in. She heard the racket and wanted Verney’s ass in jail. For life, I think. She would have been okay with the death penalty, too. The woman wants him drawn and quartered, the real reason being that she thinks he poisoned one of her dogs.”
“Sounds like the Vivian I met.”
We got into the SUV and I said, “Did you question Verney about Collins’ murder?”
“Yep. He’s clear. Alibi checks out.”
“And Vivian?”
“Clear, too. She was at a dog show when Collins was shot.”
One down and two to go. Margaret and Amy. Three, if you counted Ellie.
“Can you find out the middle names of Amy and Margaret?”
“Already know them.”
I waited. Nothing.
“So?” I prompted. “You going to share?”
“Margaret Mary and Allison Mary.”
“Or Mar. Both close to Marla,” I said. “How about Vivian?” No way was I going to ask about Ellie. I could find that myself.
“Vivian’s middle name’s Joyce.”
* * *
We were driving back to town when Nick’s cell phone rang. Unlike mine, his had a nice normal ring.
He activated the speaker so I could hear.
“Chief, about that case you wanted me to check out?” Miller said. “Lieutenant Duncan was first on the scene, and he was in charge throughout.”
“Thanks.” He clicked off and made a U-turn. “He’s retired. Lives about ten miles past Kendall’s place.”
We drove until the road forked, then followed a bend where it narrowed. Overhead, dense trees canopied the road, blocking the last of the late-day sun. It was like driving through a scenic version of the Queens Midtown Tunnel. Unlike this stunning view, the Tunnel, with its grungy tile, always reminded me of someone’s dirty bathroom.
“Think he’ll remember the case?” I asked.
“Only murder in Silver Stream on his watch.”
* * *
Duncan, a ruddy-complexioned man in his late sixties, early seventies, was hanging laundry on a makeshift clothesline strung from the side of the house to a nearby tree.
He set the last clothespin on a pair of striped boxers and turned to greet us.
“Hey there. Nick.” He looked to me, and Nick introduced us.
“This is Nora Lassiter. Her father was Tom Lassiter. Used to live in these parts years back.”
“I remember him. This about Tom?” He was wearing a plaid work shirt and faded jeans that looked like they had been new about thirty years ago. The words good ole boy ran through my head like a mantra. I didn’t like myself much for judging so quickly and on such shallow evidence, but there it was.
“Well, I was going to say howdy and how’s it going first,” Nick said, “but yes, it’s about Tom.”
“Sit. Have a beer.” Duncan gestured toward the small deck off the back of the house.
“Sounds good,” Nick said.
I didn’t want a beer. I wanted to hear what he had to say about my dad, and leave, but I smiled and went along.
“Damn dryer broke,” Duncan said as he tossed the bag of clothespins onto a chair.
We sat in Adirondack chairs and waited while he got the beers. Nick seemed at ease. I whispered, “Did you work for this guy?”
“Yes.”
“He a good cop?”
Nick said, “Listen to him. Tell me what you think.”
I smirked. “A straight answer would be good here.”
The guy returned and handed us each a can of beer. He gave me a glass. It was clean. No dog hairs, a point in his favor.
Nick explained what we were interested in, and ended by saying, “I haven’t read your report on the m
urder yet, but I was out this way and decided to stop. See if you could recall anything, get your feel for the case. I know it was a long time ago.”
“Never did find the killer and I regret that. Everyone figured it was Lassiter. That was stupid. He didn’t do it.”
That set me back on my heels.
“A lot of people thought he was guilty,” I said. “Why didn’t you?”
“Two days before the murder, Tom decks Kendall. Most folks put two and two together and come up with five. Bad blood between them, they say. He must’ve gone back and killed the guy. Dumbass thinking. That’s the exact reason Tom wasn’t guilty. He’d had his revenge. He didn’t need to go back. That would’ve been overkill.”
Duncan chuckled at his own morbid pun and so did Nick. Cop humor.
Duncan continued. “‘Course, Lassiter had an alibi. Don’t know how good it was. One of his aunts. Probably covering for him. If I’d thought the guy did it, that wouldn’t have stopped me. Never did find anyone who knew what the hell had gone on between him and Kendall. The wife, your mother, I mean, said she didn’t know. Probably had to do with her working there and leaving so quickly. My best guess? Percy fired her ass and Tom couldn’t accept the reason, whatever that was. Must have been very personal. Don’t suppose we’ll ever know now, unless she’s willing to talk.” He looked at me. “Hasn’t she told you?”
“No. But I don’t have to ask her now,” I said, relieved by what he’d told me. “I know she wasn’t fired. She quit. Sexual harassment.”
My opinion of the old cop had done a one-eighty. He wasn’t a good ole boy, but a thinker in backwoods clothing. He suspected Hannah’s alibi was trumped up, yet hadn’t called her on it because he believed my father was innocent. Technically, not good police procedure. Can’t tell a book by its cover.
“Kendall was after her?” he said, leaning forward.
“Yes. That’s what I heard.”
“That fits with your dad’s reaction. That occurred to me, but since your Mom and Dad didn’t press charges, I figured I was wrong. I mean, why wouldn’t they press charges?”
As we were getting into the SUV, I turned and gave Nick a quick kiss, startling him. “Thanks,” I said. “I feel better knowing he didn’t think Dad was guilty. He was a good cop, wasn’t he?”
“Kiss me again and I’ll tell you.”
TWENTY-SIX
All the aunts were at the house when I got back, sitting in the front room having tea. I guessed they’d been talking about me. Maybe wondering how I was holding up since they’d last seen me. Ida hopped up immediately. “I’ll get you a blueberry turnover. A dollop of cream?”
“Sure.”
“Coffee?” Hannah asked, following Ida.
“Okay. That would be good.”
“Here, let me plump your pillow,” Agnes offered, shuffling over.
“Thanks,” I said, leaning forward, although I could have plumped my own pillow. Or poured my own coffee. Or gotten my own blueberry turnover.
Then it hit me. The melancholy I’d been feeling had been triggered by things about my dad, but there was another layer I had kept well hidden. From myself.
Do I have to go? Do I?
I would be leaving the family soon, the aunts in particular, people who hadn’t been part of my life for a very long time, but who had become special in a very short time. Special people are rare in anyone’s life. It was hard to think about walking away.
Right now they were trying to make up to me for not believing my father, for causing me unhappiness. Such kindness. It made me want to cry.
When I was all settled in, and they were all settled in, I decided to tell them what was going on with Percy and Mary Fran. I knew they would enjoy hearing about it. It would also be my way of telling them that I held no hard feelings toward them.
“I have something to share with you all. First, I must swear you to secrecy.”
They looked from one to the other. “We swear.”
I launched into the “case.” I told them everything, including my time in the Dumpster and my time under the bed. I left nothing out. Absolutely nothing.
Their eyes grew wide. They leaned forward again and again, oohing, aahing, and chuckling.
“Who would have thought that nice Mary Fran was having such a time of it,” Ida remarked, shaking her head. “I get my hair done at her place once a month. She’s nice as can be.”
“My goodness,” Agnes said, her eyes wide. “All this going on in Silver Stream. How can we help?”
“I suppose if we could tell you who this Marla is, it would help,” Hannah said.
“I was hoping you’d know someone named Marla.”
“Roping? Somebody was roping somebody? Was this another one of those games?” Agnes asked.
I repeated myself for Agnes.
No one knew anyone named Marla.
“We do have a lot of contacts,” Agnes said. “We’ll ask around.”
“No,” I said vehemently. “Definitely not. I want this kept quiet. I don’t want Percy to find out. If he knew, he’d hide his money, make arrangements for some of it to disappear for a while so Mary Fran couldn’t get her fair share.” I didn’t mention her fair share would be about eighty percent. “Even Marla, whoever she is, can’t know because she’d tell Percy.”
“She’s gotta be from out of town,” Ida said.
“Maybe not.” I told them my theory, based on what I’d observed at the funeral. “There was a certain look in his eye when he nodded in their direction. I think Marla may just be a name she used during sex.”
They all nodded. They knew the look. Pursing her lips, Hannah said, “Game playing,” like she knew about such stuff. “Trust your gut on this, Nora.”
“I do. I now think Marla might be one of two women because Vivian has been eliminated. It’s down to Margaret and Amy. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Ellie.”
“Oh, my word.” Agnes chuckled. “A secret vamp. Amy or Margaret? Who is the real Marla?”
Ida tsk-tsked.
Hannah grinned and slapped her thigh. “Well, I’ll be. Haven’t heard such goings on since Viola was alive.”
“The vamp in the family tree?” I asked. “The one whose blue eyes are like mine?”
“Wine?” Agnes asked loudly. “I don’t usually drink during the day, but if you’re serving… .”
“Eyes like mine,” I said.
Next, I told them about the photo I’d taken at the funeral with JT in the background.
After the gasps, Agnes asked, “Are you sure it was JT?”
Ida’s hand went to her heart. “Thank the Lord. I didn’t want to say it, but I was beginning to think he might be dead.”
Hannah said, “I wonder if Ellie knows. Do you suppose he’s been in contact with her and she hasn’t told us because she’s protecting him?”
That seemed unlikely, but you never knew.
* * *
The following day, I drove out to JT’s auto repair place to see about the radiator for my car. I was only going because of my car. Period. No snooping planned. Since the salesman had put in a purchase order, taking over Collins’ job without being asked, I simply wanted to hurry things along.
The place was busier than it had been the last time I’d been here. I could see at least five men working as I stepped from my truck. No boss, but they were working. Interesting. JT must have put someone in charge.
I went into the office, wrinkled my nose at the stink of smoke, and told a guy with a cigarette dangling from his mouth about my radiator. He didn’t bother to remove the cigarette when he said he had to check something and left me standing there.
Several pads of business forms on the cracked linoleum counter caught my attention. I glanced around, didn’t see the smoker, opened a book of invoices and flipped through, just passing the time of day, nothing more. I should have brought a book to read. Dull stuff in this invoice book. I glanced around, but the smoker was nowhere in sight. There was a second book on the counter, th
is one labeled Purchase Orders. I flipped it open.
Omigod.
My heart raced as I quickly leafed through the pages. Without reading details, I ripped one out, stuffed it in my pocket and continued looking. My heart was still doing double time as I turned to see the cigarette guy staring at me from the doorway. When had he returned?
“Looking for something?” His voice was harsh, accusing. I drew a momentary blank. Nothing came.
Be calm, Nora. Be calm.
I took a breath, which I needed, and smiled. When in doubt, smile. Then inspiration struck.
“I was looking to see whether Kendall’s Auto Mart had sent you an order for my radiator. The guy said he did, but you never know. I’m from New York. Skeptical is my middle name. I’m sorry, really. It was nosy of me.”
I laid it on, hoping he hadn’t seen me rip a page out. “I need that radiator. I’m afraid of breaking down and getting stuck around here.” Poor little, incompetent me. “I was here a few days ago about a rattle. My Uncle JT fixed it.”
Mentioning my relationship to the owner helped. I knew I had him. Thawing was evident around the edges. Not all that obvious. But to the trained eye … Nora, Nora, you are too much. Trained eye?
He took a puff on his cigarette, tipped his head and blew a plume of blue smoke to the ceiling where it swirled into the rest of the fog.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He took a business card from the counter and handed it to me. “Call back later.”
Chatty guy. Well, it was better than nothing.
Nick had said someone was watching JT’s place. If that were so, the watcher was well hidden. I took my time starting the truck as I searched for him. Then I phoned Nick and asked, “Who’s watching JT’s Auto?”
He said hesitantly, “No one right now. Why?”
“I’m here.”
“Damnit all, Nora. Get out of there.”
“I have a bad radiator. You said so yourself. I came to see if Kendall’s Auto ordered the new one. I’ve got a warranty, you know.”
“And what else are you up to?
“You are so suspicious.”
“You are so transparent.”
Bernadine Fagan - Nora Lassiter 01 - Murder by the Old Maine Stream Page 20
